Compromise
by Deandra
Summary: Morwen tries her hand at arranging hair. Fluffy little ONESHOT. Part 134 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


**_Part 134 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes._**

**_A/N: See if you notice the subliminal messaging!_**

**Compromise**

**(April, 20 IV)**

Eomer worked his shoulders to ease the kinks, as he walked toward his bedchamber. If he took his dinner there, it would keep his advisers at bay for the duration, and he might even manage some time with his family while he ate.

The moment he stepped into the room, his eyes went immediately to his wife, seated on the bench in front of her dressing table, and he froze in his tracks as he stared at her. Finally, a snicker erupted from him and he inquired, "Having a bit of trouble arranging your hair, my love?"

Lothiriel smiled benignly at his reflection in the looking glass, then shook her head. "Not at all. Morwen has been assisting me with it. Do you not like it?"

He barely restrained a snort. "It is…interesting, to say the least." Several tendrils of hair had come loose from the clips intended to hold them in place, and it was evident that a less-than-practiced hand had been at work.

Rising, Lothiriel moved toward him, a wicked glint in her eye that immediately put him on his guard. She stepped in close and drew him to within a hair's breadth, brushing a light kiss over his lips. Then pulling back slightly, she murmured low, "I am glad that you approve, for Morwen intends to work on _you_ next!"

Eomer froze in horror, and his face was a mask of dismay and frantic thought as he attempted to think of a way out of this. Just then, the door banged open and Morwen ran back into their room, exclaiming cheerily, "Papa! Have you come to play with us? Sit down and I will do your hair also! Do you like what I did to Mama's hair?"

Eomer found himself suddenly at a loss for words. He loved his daughter dearly, and did not wish to hurt her feelings, but it was a bit much to expect him to allow…this!

Lothiriel was eyeing him innocently as he gave her a pleading look for assistance. She hesitated just long enough to make him squirm, and then a slight grin teased her mouth. "Morwen, this sort of style is not truly appropriate for a man." Their daughter's face fell even as Eomer was beginning to look reassured. Lothiriel continued, "However, perhaps you would like to give Papa some warrior braids. Would you like me to help you with that?"

Morwen's enthusiasm instantly resurfaced at this new prospect. "Oh yes, Mama! That would be wonderful! May I, Papa?"

Trying to hide his vast relief at this reprieve, Eomer nodded. "I think that would be fine, dearest."

"There are some clips in that top drawer of the chest, Morwen. We will need them to fasten the braids," Lothiriel instructed as she gestured for Eomer to be seated. Then, as Morwen went to look, she bent down by his ear, whispering, "You will owe me greatly for this, my lord! I expect to be rewarded handsomely tonight for saving you from such an awful fate!"

He turned and favored her with a kiss, assuring her, "It shall be my pleasure to reward you however you may wish. I am yours to command!"

THE END

3/5/07

FYI: Eomer is 49; Lothiriel is 41 and Morwen is 6

**_End note:  It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content._**


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